Gray Days
by Anonymuss
Summary: Helga wants to finely talk to Arnold, disguised as his secret admirer pen pal. But when will she have to reveal who she really is? Or will she?! %%LAST CHAPTER IS UP! THANKS EVERYONE!!%%
1. Chapter 1: Arnold

Gray Days  
  
Chapter 1: Arnold  
  
"Hey Arnold!" Gerald called to his friend at the end of the hallway. "When are you finely going to ask Lila to the dance?"  
  
"Uh, Gerald," Arnold said as he emptied his books from his backpack into his locker. "In case you haven't noticed, the dance isn't until two weeks!"  
  
"Tell that to them." Gerald pointed into the direction of a huddle of guys. Arnold abandoned his backpack and locker to see what was the commotion. Arnold saw Lila in a new dress, and guys were goggling over her.  
  
"That's a really nice dress you got on there, Lila," He heard Stinky say.  
  
"Why, you are all ever so nice." Lila replied. Her cheeks went pink.  
  
Arnold was furious. How could they do this to me? He thought. Everyone knows I like Lila!  
  
He was just about to march over there and tell who's who when he saw movement at the corner of his eye. A blur ran away from a spot were his locker was, but it was closed! He was sure he left it open. Gerald? No, he left to go see Phoebe about some project they had. He thought about it. Who was it?  
  
He decided to put it off. Lila was gone, along with her mob of followers. He undid his locker combo, 9-22-16. Click! He opened his locker and---- There was a gray trapper keeper he didn't put there. He opened the trapper and he saw. . .a envelope with his name encircled by bright red lace! He opened the envelope and found a note that read,  
  
My Dearest Arnold,  
  
I wish to go to the dance with you, but I cannot ask you in person. I wish to see you in two months from now, in Mr. Green's meat shop. Maybe we can go for ice cream afterwards.  
  
With my greatest Love,  
  
Your Secret Admirer  
  
P.S.  
  
To send a reply, simply put it in the gray trapper keeper provided and put it in the lost and found. Please, keep in touch.  
  
Arnold knew what to do. After school, he went straight to Gerald.  
  
"Was it from Lila? Maybe one of her friends put in there?" Arnold suggested.  
  
"No, probably not, because she doesn't have any friends that are girls, and the rest wouldn't do it because they want to go to the dance with her, but it could be!" Gerald said.  
  
"How will I ever find out her name? And what does she mean by, 'and keep in touch?'"  
  
"I think she wants to be 'pen pals', but anonymous ones." Gerald said. "And why don't you just ask her name, what's the worst she can do? Say 'no?'"  
  
"I guess so."  
  
Arnold wrote a note back, basically asking her name.  
  
Arnold was in A2 (Homeroom) when he finished and heard,  
  
"Hey, Football Head!" Arnold sighed, Helga. "That trapper isn't yours, unless I am mistaken. So, give it here, and I'll take it to the lost and found, or you will have to find your head in the lost and found!"  
  
Arnold, reluctantly, gave the trapper to her. It was lost. But Maybe, Helga was really telling the truth. It seemed to much to hope.  
  
But, the next day, Arnold found the trapper in the lost and found. "She did it!" He said to no one.  
  
Arnold looked in and found not exactly what he excepted.  
  
Dear Arnold,  
  
I, like before, cannot tell you who I am. But, I will give you some hints.  
  
1. I am not what you expect I am.  
  
2. Figure out the code to figure out my name  
  
IFMHB  
  
Arnold was a little bit ticked, but that was all. He found some paper and put;  
  
Dear _______,  
  
I cannot figure out the puzzle you gave me. Please tell me your name! I will go with you if you tell me that! And, sure, I will keep in touch. The girl that I was originally going to ask has guys flipping over backwards for her, so I can wait.  
  
From,  
  
Arnold  
  
Arnold looked at the letter pleased. He put it in the gray trapper keeper and then, the lost and found. 


	2. Chapter 2: Helga

Chapter 2  
  
Helga  
  
Helga went into the lost and found room after school, looked around to check for somebody hiding, took the gray trapper, and hauled butt.  
  
She got on the bus, and sat down next to Phoebe.  
  
"I don't get it Phoebe," she said, head turned to Arnold. "Why does he like Lila so much?"  
  
"I think that is because--" Phoebe stopped, and realized she needed to give her friend comfort. "I think it is because he doesn't know you like him. If you tell him, he might be nice to you."  
  
"So what am I supposed to say? 'Hey football head, yeah you. Guess what? I have a huge crush on you ever since pre-school. Huh? What? Sure, I'll wait for you to stop laughing.'"  
  
"Okay, okay," Phoebe said. "Just, stop looking at him." She turned and faced Arnold/Football head and Gerald.  
  
"Hey, why are you looking at him?" Helga mused.  
  
"I am not," Phoebe protested. She saw her best friend's angry face and continued. "I. . . I was looking at Gerald. We, um, are working on a, er, school project together and, uh, he promised he would work on it and I was seeing if he was living up to his obligations."  
  
"We aren't doing any projects," Helga said suspiciously.  
  
"I know," Phoebe said, trying too hard to be nonchalant. "It's for extra credit."  
  
Helga, who obviously didn't believe this for a minute, but let it go and just said, "Whatever."  
  
The bus got to Helga's stop just then, and she got off without another word.  
  
"Hi, Olga. How was school?" Big Bob asked as Helga came in from the door.  
  
"I'm not Olga, dad, I'm Helga. Remember, Olga is off in nowheresville teaching Eskimos how to read." Helga snapped.  
  
"Oh, yeah. In that case, get me a beer and TV dinner, Helga." Bob said.  
  
"Okay, hold on, dad."  
  
Helga ran up the stairs into her room. She threw her backpack on her bed and went into her closet/shrine. She pulled apart the clothes and-  
  
"HELGA! What are you doing!?" Big Bob demanded.  
  
Helga quickly closed the door.  
  
"Nothing, dad. Just getting my homework done." She lied.  
  
"I thought I asked you to get me a beer and TV dinner!" Bob roared.  
  
That was the last straw. Helga was tired of this bad day, and she wasn't listening to anybody.  
  
"Get. It. Yourself!" She yelled and slammed the door in his face. "Why?" She asked herself. "Why do I have to be so mean?"  
  
She decided to call Phoebe.  
  
"Hey, Pheebes."  
  
"Oh, hi Helga." Phoebe said.  
  
"That's it? Just, 'Oh, hi?'"  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm preoccupied. Just need to turn off the TV."  
  
Phoebe tried to cover up the phone, but she only covered it halfway. Helga caught some of her conversation.  
  
"Oh, Gerald. . . go. . . I talk to. . . for. . . bye!"  
  
Helga giggled.  
  
"What?" Phoebe was back on.  
  
"Nothing." Helga let out an innocent whistle. Phoebe didn't get it and decided to drop it.  
  
"Okay, whatever. So what did you want to talk about?"  
  
"Phoebe, I want a honest answer. I will give you full immunity if you answer truthfully."  
  
"Um, okay."  
  
"Am I, well, am I. . . a mean person? Why are people so afraid of me?" Helga asked politely.  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
"I don't think you mean to be rude, Helga." Phoebe said. "It's just the way you are. If you tried to be nicer to people, you know say the good things about them instead of the bad, I think you would be liked more. Less people would be scared of you."  
  
Helga didn't answer for a while.  
  
"Sorry, I have to go to dinner, Helga."  
  
"Okay, bye," Helga sighed.  
  
"Bye."  
  
"WAIT!" Helga screamed into the receiver.  
  
"What? Did I do something wrong?" Phoebe asked.  
  
'No, I did. I forgot to say thank you, Phoebe."  
  
"Your welcome, Helga."  
  
"Oh, yeah, and Pheebes?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"This conversation NEVER happened, right?"  
  
Phoebe had dealt with enough conversations that, "NEVER happened" to know what to say.  
  
"What conversation?" She asked, as usual.  
  
"That's my girl," Helga said, then hung up the phone. Click! Helga felt a whole lot better. She decided to tell Arnold one week before the dance who she was. Until then, she would be a lot nicer to him. She took out a pen and paper and wrote another letter.  
  
My Dearest Arnold,  
  
I will tell you my name in one week before the dance. Until then you can talk to the real me in these notes. But if you talk about me to me, I will lie, until one week until the dance, for my security. I hope to see you at the dance!  
  
Love,  
  
Ifmhb  
  
Helga put the letter in an envelope. Then she put it in the trapper keeper. She couldn't wait for the next day of school. She turned on her radio and heard Alive by P.O.D. She turned it up to drone out the sound of the yelling Big Bob. I think, she thought, that tomorrow is going to be a very good day. 


	3. Chapter 3: Arnold

Chapter 3  
  
Arnold  
  
"Hey Arnold, hey Arnold, hey Arnold, hey Arnold, he-"  
  
Arnold's alarm clock stopped as he pulled the cord out of the potato. He yawned.  
  
"Ugh, this is definitely NOT the start of a good day," Arnold sighed.  
  
He had spent all of the last night trying to figure out who the secret admirer was. He got nothing. Then he had to work on some math homework for Mr. Simmons. It took him until 1:00am the next morning until he could finish. And he was dead tired.  
  
"Hey, Short Man!" Grandpa called up from downstairs. "Isn't it a lovely day?"  
  
Arnold looked up to find stormy, cloudy, gray sky's. He yawned again and started to get ready for school. He trudged (vocab word!) down the stairs and got his backpack ready.  
  
"Hey, what's this?" Grandpa was behind his back, pointing to the gray trapper keeper.  
  
"Oh," Arnold blushed and quickly zipped up his backpack. "Nothing."  
  
"Nothing, you say? I think our Arnold has been stealing!" He ran into the kitchen. "You here that Pookey? Arnold is a thief!"  
  
"I didn't steal anything." Arnold said.  
  
"So," it was Ernie Potts. "How'd ya do it?"  
  
"I told you, I didn't steal it!" Arnold said, still calm, but getting angry.  
  
"Arnold, how can you live with that on your mind? We will guilt you into giving it back," Grandpa said. "Arnold is a thief! Arnold is a thief! A common criminal!"  
  
"Arnold did what?" Mr. Whynn asked.  
  
"Thief, thief, thief," Grandpa chanted.  
  
There was a message at the door.  
  
"What is it?" Arnold asked.  
  
"A message to Arnold from Mr. Smith," the man said.  
  
"I'm Arnold," Arnold said. "Give it here."  
  
"Can I trust you with this package?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
He gave Arnold the package and left. Arnold opened it to find a single sheet of paper. He looked at the paper and tore it into shreds. The paper said;  
  
Arnold,  
  
You're a thief? How could you?  
  
-Mr. Smith  
  
"SHUT. UP." Arnold said, grabbed a piece of toast, and went out the door.  
  
"But, Arnold, school doesn't start for a while, the bus won't be here in half a hour! And it's raining cats and dogs!" Grandpa said.  
  
"I'll walk, and I got a umbrella," Arnold said.  
  
"I guess Arnold doesn't know today's April 1st?" Ernie Potts asked Grandpa and Grandma.  
  
"Young Simba doesn't need to pay attention to the date," Grandma, of course.  
  
~~~**~~~**~~~  
  
"Hello, Arnold," Lila said to Arnold when he got into school. "You look ever so wet."  
  
"I got mad at Grandpa and had to leave the house early," Arnold replied.  
  
"Whatever do you mean?" Lila asked, curious.  
  
"Oh, Grandpa found a gray trapper keeper I don't own, and he thought I stole it. Soon, the hole boarding house thought I was a thief."  
  
"What were you doing with something you don't own?" Lila asked suspiciously.  
  
'Oh, someone gave it to me t-" Arnold stopped. He figured he shouldn't say anything about IFMHB, so he changed the subject. "Mr. Simmons hasn't assigned any projects lightly, when do you think we are going to get them?"  
  
"I'm so sorry, Arnold," Lila said suddenly. "I. . . I have to go talk to Mr. Simmons."  
  
"Okay," Arnold said, but Lila was already off.  
  
~~~**~~~**~~~**  
  
"Now, class," Mr. Simmons started his favorite class. "We have a very special day today. I am having you read a special poem out of my special book of poems, in front of our special class."  
  
"How special!" Helga said sarcastically. Everyone, including Mr. Simmons, laughed. He didn't get it.  
  
"Okay, so who is first?" Mr. Simmons looked around at the room. "ARNOLD! How about you?"  
  
"Um, okay," Arnold got out of his seat and walked up to the front. "It was a dark and stormy night. . ."  
  
But, as Arnold was reading the long poem, Lila took the gray trapper keeper. She opened it and found all the letters. She couldn't believe her eyes. How dense can Arnold be, she thought. Can't he see that IFMHB is HELGA, but the next letter over? (i.e. a=b, b=c. . .)  
  
Arnold was almost done, so Lila put the letters back and stuffed the trapper back with Arnold's stuff. He saw nothing wrong.  
  
"I liked the way you read the poem ever so much," she said to him.  
  
"Oh, thanks." Arnold blushed.  
  
"Okay, class. We will be starting a new project today," Mr. Simmons said enthusiastically.  
  
The class groaned.  
  
"Yes. We will be in threes, pairs or be doing a monologue of a tragedy Shakespeare style. You will make up a story, write a script, and perform it on the 29th of May, the day before the dance!"  
  
The class let out another groan. Arnold raised his hand.  
  
"Yes, Arnold?"  
  
"Uh, I'm not going to be here that day, I'm going to Lansing for a special 'family outing'."  
  
"Oh, won't that be special, to visit Michigan's capital." Mr. Simmons said.  
  
"Oh, yeah," Arnold said, sarcastically.  
  
"So, you can be the director of your group. I'll put the sign-up sheet on my desk."  
  
Arnold went over to Gerald and did the thumb-thing.  
  
"Hey, partner," Arnold said.  
  
"Actually, I promised Phoebe I would be her partner, but you can be in our group, I guess."  
  
"Cool," Arnold said. "I'll go sign us up."  
  
Arnold went up to Mr. Simmons desk and looked at the sheet. Already, there were three groups signed up.  
  
Special Groups:  
  
1. Sid & Stinky & Lila  
  
2. Rhonda & Nadine  
  
3. Helga (monologue)  
  
He thought it was odd that Helga was by herself, but then put it out of his head, and scribbled his, Gerald's and Phoebe's names on the paper.  
  
Arnold got back to his table, got out a paper, and asked Gerald for the date.  
  
"April fools day, duh! You know, April 1st," Gerald said.  
  
"Oh," Arnold muttered, realizing what his Grandpa was doing to him.  
  
  
  
Did you like it? Fourth chapter coming ASAP! Please review and check out my friends stories by BlackNotebook (Glass Waltz) and Ton (We Are Not Alone) 


	4. Chapter 4: Helga

Chapter 4  
  
Helga  
  
Helga got up for school the next day with a smile on her face. He went downstairs to get a bowl of cereal when she heard Bob whine, "Helga, get me some bacon and pancakes, NOW!"  
  
"You know what?" She asked him as she stalked over to his chair, and pointed her finger in his face. "Just because mom is out for the next couple of days doesn't mean I'm your personal slave. So, I'm not taking any of your crap. So, guess what? If you want bacon and are too lazy to get it, deal with it."  
  
Big Bob would have said something to Helga, but he was taken aback by her. He thought she would give in like she always did.  
  
Helga finished her cereal, and got ready for school. When she got to the bus stop, she read a sign over it that said, "closed for repairs. Should be back up and running by the end of this month." Oh goody, she thought, now I get to walk everyday. She decided to take the shorter way, so she could get to school on time. Helga walked from alleyway to alleyway, cursing the great sites of her town. Franny's Fish Market. Pete's Plush Toys. Dan's Dog Park. John's J--.  
  
She stopped walking. Helga felt like she was about to feint. There was Arnold, and standing next to him was Lila. It was obvious to her that Lila was going to, in the next minute or two, ask Arnold to the dance. Arnold didn't understand, though. He is too dense, she thought, he wouldn't know. She felt rage bubbling up inside of her. She had to do something! Helga did the only thing she could think of, she started to run toward them.  
  
"Hey, Arnold, how's it going," she asked, nonchalant. She looked at Lila. "What is totally, ever so up?"  
  
To Helga's surprise, and Lila's misfortune, Arnold started to laugh. Then, he quickly stopped.  
  
"It's going great. So, do you want to walk with us to school, Helga?" Helga felt her knees about to buckle. He was asking her to go walking to school with him! So, it wasn't to anyplace special, and it was with Lila, but-. "Helga? I just asked if you-."  
  
"Yeah, I heard you, sure, I'd just lo-o-o-ove to go walking with you and Lila," she sneered, drawing out the word. Arnold, just as she anticipated, didn't get it. But, Lila did. There was a look of pure hatred shown on her face.  
  
  
  
  
  
SUB CHAPTER: HELGA'S POV  
  
  
  
"Arnold," Lila asked. "Would you mind if I talked to Helga for a second, privately? It's about her project."  
  
"Sure," said Arnold. He was too dense to figure anything was wrong. He walked ahead of us, out of ear shot. We walked into an alleyway  
  
"You might have fooled Arnold, but you haven't got me fooled," she said angrily. I put a smug smile on my face. She continued," everyone, including you knows that Arnold likes me, so why bother? You can't keep on cutting in like this, and by the way," she put a sick smirk on her pretty little don't-touch-me-I'm-so-cute face. "Your stupid letter thing won't work, he might be fooled of who is behind it now, but soon he will realize the person is even worse than he imagined."  
  
In a flash I picked her up by the collar of her preppy jumper and pushed her agenst a wall of the alleyway. "Oh, so that's it? You don't want Arnold to see you push me agenst the wall and hurt me. Oh, no, he wouldn't want that. Your poor litt-"  
  
"Shut. Up." I said to her. "I don't know who you are ever so trying to kid, but I am not taking any of your crap."  
  
"Well, looks like Helga has turned back into her normal self, again."  
  
"Don't provoke me, Lila," I told her quietly. "I am still nice. I just don't want you going around messing with me. Now, since when is it that you are Miss. Smarty pants?"  
  
"You are still nice? Pushing me up to an alleyway wall is NICE!? You may think you are nice, but really you have a temper." She looked at me hard. Like she was about to cry. I stayed strong. "Helga, you are right! I am ever so as bad as you! What have I become? What did I ever do? I didn't mean to toy with anyone's emotions."  
  
"To late for that," I muttered. She ignored it.  
  
"Helga, help me. I have become a monster!"  
  
I don't know why, but I felt that I was wrong that I caused this. I loosened my grip on her. I felt that I, Helga, was responsible for this poor, sweet girl, Lila. This girl that-- Hey, wait a second. Poor, sweet? Lila was playing mind games. Showing how she could cause people to believe whatever she said. Only by her being so, helpless. I was about to open my mouth and apologize, but instead I said, "oh, that's too bad. DEAL." And, then I let her go.  
  
"It might not work on you, but it will work on Arnold." She said to my retreating back.  
  
"Leave. Arnold. Alone." I said, without turning around. "Let him make his own choices."  
  
  
  
I caught up to Arnold, loosing Lila in the process. She might have the ability to manipulate, but I have the better endurance and speed.  
  
"Hey, Arnold," I said between breaths. "Wait. . . up!"  
  
He stopped walking. "Hey, Helga. Where is Lila?"  
  
"Oh, she. . . um. . . decided to take a more. . . err. . . scenic. . . route to school." I lied.  
  
"That's cool. Hey, if you don't mind me asking. . ."  
  
"Yes? I mean, no, I don't mind." I answered, confused.  
  
"I don't mean to offend, but why is it. . . what I mean to say is. . . why are you acting so. . . differently?" He asked, obviously afraid I may punch him in the face. Instead, I let out a laugh.  
  
"So, what you are saying is that you want me to go back into all gung- ho-I'm-going-to-beat-your-butt-up-bad Helga again?"  
  
He laughed again. "I guess not. I was just wondering why," he said, still pressing the subject. I searched for an answer.  
  
"I guess," I began. "I guess that I haven't realized how. . . rude I was." Then, as an after thought I added, "I guess I didn't realize my own incompetence until just recently." We both laughed. Incompetence was the word we had for vocab, and the word all the teachers had called us, as well as chaotic, cantankerous. . .  
  
"Well, I just wanted to say that I like the new Helga better than the old, no offense," he added.  
  
"None taken. And I would just like to say that I like the new me, too." We stared at the school building.  
  
"Oh, goody. Another day of school," I mumbled.  
  
"Yes, goody!" Mr. Simmons said from behind me. He didn't catch my sarcasm. "And, it is exceptionally special today! We are having a doctor come in to talk about work as a phyceatric doctor, you know to help people who have 'problems.'" He created quote signs in the air as he said "problems."  
  
"Oh, great," I said after Mr. Simmons had left. "We get to hear a guy talk about wackos."  
  
"Helga," Arnold said. "I don't think it is politically correct to call them wackos."  
  
"Your right. Who would want to be called wackos? People who are nuts, duh. Anyways, we don't need some guy talking about "problemed" people," I said, putting "problemed" in quotation marks in the air. "We have our own wacko person to listen to, everyday of the week, for the last two years, ever since 4th grade," I pointed to Mr. Simmons, who now had exactly 5 kick- me signs on his back. I am proud to say that I only put one of those on.  
  
I spotted Phoebe out of a crowd. "Hey, Pheebes!" I called out to her.  
  
"Hi, Helga. Hey, Arnold, how's your third of the project going?" She asked him.  
  
"Already got the script typed up and everything. Grandma agreed to make the costumes, but we might get a little differently looking ones then you ordered."  
  
"Um, and why is that?" I asked, eager to get in on the conversation.  
  
"Oh, it's just that she is back in her "African Safari" stage. Watch out for spotted tarzan-type outfits." I got a laugh out of that. "Shakespeare meats George of the Jungle. A new box office hit. Five stars and two paws up."  
  
"Well," Arnold said. "We better be getting back inside, unless we want to miss the presentation on wackos."  
  
"Arnold, I don't think it is very nice to call them wackos." Phoebe said harshly. I looked at Arnold, he looked at me.  
  
"You would have to be nuts to want to be called wacko."  
  
"You would have to be nuts to want to be called wacko."  
  
We both said it at the same instant, and then started laughing. Phoebe just stood there, confused. "I'll fill you in later," I mouthed to her. She winked to show me she understood. You would never guess how bad this girl started out at lip-reading. Let's just say that it ended up having to do with holiday jello, spinach, and a whole lot of yams. Long story.  
  
So, we walked into that prison they call school. I went my separate way with Phoebe and Arnold went with Gerald. I filled Phoebe in about our conversation.  
  
"Wow! Arnold sure has changed, and for the good. He actually understands jokes. On Lila I mean," she said as an afterthought.  
  
"Yeah," I said, while unpacking my backpack. "But, what does it mean. You know, li-"  
  
I found the gray trapper keeper in my bag. I completely forgot about it.  
  
"You know, Pheebes," I said to her. "I think that Arnold should see a person before he goes to the dance with her."  
  
"What?" Phoebe asked, confused. Then she got it," oh! Yeah, that is a good idea."  
  
I quickly scribbled on a piece of paper my note:  
  
Arnold,  
  
I am afraid that I feel it is wrong to ask you to go with me without giving you my name. Unfortunately, I cannot give you this, but I will, in person, ask you to go with me to the dance. I think. Just please do me one favor. DON'T ask Lila to the dance, or say yes if she asks you. She isn't all she is cracked up to be. I am saying this for your own good. She. . .manipulates people. And, I don't want one of those people to be you. Thank you.  
  
Love,  
  
Ifmhb  
  
I put it in the trapper. Then, I thought of something.  
  
P.S.  
  
Please destroy this note after you are done reading it. NOT in Mr. Simmons classroom. In the dumpster behind the school. Someone has been reading our notes.  
  
"Lila must have read all of my notes with Arnold to know about everything," I told Phoebe. That must be it.  
  
"She. . . knows?" Phoebe whispered.  
  
"Yeah, but she isn't telling Arnold, and let me just tell you, she can manipulate people, so DON'T EVER feel sorry for her. Just think about how she ever so called me, well she was about to call me a really bad name, but then I sort of pinned her down."  
  
I was expecting her to go off on me for doing that to someone, but instead she nodded.  
  
"Well, we better go in, or we will miss the presentation on wackos."  
  
"I don't think it is politically correct to call them wackos," a voice from behind us said. Sid.  
  
I looked at Phoebe, she looked at me.  
  
"You would have to be nuts to want to be called wacko."  
  
"You would have to be nuts to want to be called wacko."  
  
We said it at the same time, and then burst out laughing. Then, Phoebe, Sid and I walked to Mr. Simmons classroom. 


	5. Chapter 5: Arnold

CHAPTER 5  
  
  
  
ARNOLD'S POV  
  
  
  
I walked into Mr. Simmons classroom. I walked tward my seat. BAP! I bumped into someone. Helga.  
  
"Hey, watch where you are going, Arnold," she said politely. "And by the way, your seat is over there." She pointed to my seat, a row away. I must have gotten lost in my thoughts for going in the wrong row.  
  
"Oh, yeah. I knew that. I wanted. . .uh. . . more excersise! Yeah that is it!" I lied.  
  
"Sure, uh-huh. Whatever. If you don't want to tell me what you were thinking about, that's okay," Helga rolled her eyes.  
  
I walked over and sat down in my seat. Mr. Oglethorp, the "docter" started his presentation. Helga chimed in to tell me, Gerald, and Phoebe, who were all sitting next to her, jokes about wackos every five min or so. Everytime we laughed. By the fith time, Mr. Simmons spoke up.  
  
"Helga, what do you find so funny about this subject? If anything, I would have thought it was sad."  
  
"Funny? You thought I, Helga, was laughing?" Helga put an innosent face on. "We wern't laughting, we were crying. It is so sad, it makes me weep. But, to think that my beloved, my favroite teacher, Mr. Simmons, thought that I was laughing at something so sad. It," she let out a fake tear," it destroyes me," she sniffed. "Is that the way you think about me, Mr. Simmons?"  
  
"Well, no Helga," he said, obviously looking apologetic. "I'm sorry I misjudged you."  
  
The presentation carried on, as well as Helga's wisecracks. Soon, it was time for lunch. But, the schedule was mixed up. so we had lunch recess first, lunch second.  
  
I went walking up to the basket ball courts outside, when I noticed Helga talking to someone, but I couldn't quite make out the figure. But, I could hear their conversation.  
  
"So let me get this straight. You want to go with me to the dance?" Helga said. "Hmm, this is going to take some thought."  
  
"Or, we could just go to a movie or something, you know. Together," asked the other guy, hopefuly.  
  
"Hey! Look over there!" Helga exclaimed. "It's Rhonda holding Eugene's hand! Oh, wait no. I was mistaken. Because, only when that happens would I ever go on a date, or even go to the dance with you."  
  
She walked away. I rushed to the dumpster, so Helga wouldn't see me as she walked past.  
  
Was it possible? Who was asking Helga out?  
  
I played some basket ball until it was time for lunch.  
  
"Hey, what's up?" Gerald asked me as we sat down at a table.  
  
"Nada."  
  
"That's cool," he said. Then, he saw Phoebe and Helga at their table, right next to ours. "Hey, you want to come and sit with us? It's boring in our lives, no one to talk to."  
  
I saw Helga shrug at Phoebe, then pick up their lunch trays and sit down next to us. We talked for a while. Then, I couldn't hold it anymore.  
  
"Hey, Helga. Who was the guy that was talking to you at the begining at lunch. You know, the guy asking you out?" I blurted. Phoebe and Gerald looked at Helga with faces of disbelif.  
  
"Oh, him," Helga said, like it was no big deal. She chewed another piece of her sandwich. "That's Charlie."  
  
"Charlie?" I looked at Helga, confused.  
  
"Yeah, I don't think you would know him. He's a 7th grader," she said.  
  
"A seventh grader? But, Helga, we are only in 6th grade!" Phoebe looked like she was going to burst. I felt the same way. Which was the understatement of all time.  
  
"Yeah, that doesn't make it a crime or anything, does it? Now, it doesn't matter, because I said no. Look, can we just drop it? You guy's are over reacting."  
  
"But this is diffrent!"  
  
"How is it diffrent from when Gerald and Arnold went with those two sixth grade girls to the dance when we were in fourth grade? In fact, this is not as bad as that!"  
  
We didn't have anything to say about that. We just looked at each other blankly.  
  
"Thought so."  
  
"So, how's life been treating you?" Helga asked Gerald.  
  
"Oh, pretty good, and you?"  
  
"Wow, so polite. Well, aside from Bob sucking all he can from me while mom is away, and constently getting me confused with Olga, everythings okay."  
  
"So, everything is normal?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
We ate in silence for a while until we heard a voice calling something.  
  
"Helga, come over here!" I think it was Charlie, but I couldn't be sure.  
  
"If you want to talk to me, you can come here," she told him.  
  
Charlie walked over to our table. "Helga? I need to talk to you."  
  
"So? Talk."  
  
Charlie hesitated for a second, then gained udder confidence, again. "Helga, I think I can came off wrong. Would you give me the pleasure of talking you to the dance?"  
  
"So you speak English?" Helga asked. "How many different times do I have to say 'no?'"  
  
He stalked off, calling Helga a name she's been called before. "Hey," I said. "That guy's perseptive!"  
  
"Do you want to live long enough to go to the dance with little Ms. I'm-ever-so-perfect-look-at-ME girl?" She asked.  
  
"I don't know if I will be going to the dance with her," I managed to mumble.  
  
"Oh, really? Are you sure? You would break her oh-so-breakable little heart," she joked.  
  
"Well, your not so perfect, either! It's your. . . your. . ."  
  
"Hmmm? Let it out, Arnold," she asked me challengingly. She plucked out her unibrow in fith grade, and put her hair in a ponytail, now. She also wore a much diffrent aray of clothing. Basicly she now looked. . . well, pretty. There wasn't much to critisize. But, she had gone through a groth spurt.  
  
"Your tallness," I said. "Your wayyyy to tall."  
  
Somehow, this didn't make her burst into tears. In fact, she rolled her eyes and whisperd in Gerald's ear, "short people."  
  
BRIIIIIIIIIIIING! BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!  
  
The bell rang, and we gathered our books for lunch. Only then did I relize I needed to get the gray binder.  
  
"I'll be right back," I told Gerald. I hustled over to get the binder, then ran full-out and barley got to Mr. Simmons class on time. See, Mr. Simmons fixed it so he was our teacher for EVERY class. I don't know how he knows this much science, social studies, math. . . well, you get the jist.  
  
"Arnold," it was Lila. "I need to talk to you after class. Meet me outside of the oppertunity room."  
  
"Okay," I answered. She bustled back to her seat.  
  
"Hello again, class!" Mr. Simmons started. I felt a tap, tap, tap on my sholder as Helga was passing me a note.  
  
Arnold,  
  
So, you're going to meet your little honey away from everyone else? How romantic. I told you she's got the hots for you.  
  
-Helga  
  
I started to turn red. Even my ears. Helga started to laugh, and then just couldn't hold it. She laughing so hard it looked like she was going to heave. I got redder by the second. Mr. Simmons must have tried something funny at the same time, because he said:  
  
"Oh, Helga. Are you okay? I didn't know my jokes were that funny."  
  
"Oh, yes I'm fine. Your jokes are hystarical, Mr. Simmons." Helga lied between breaths.  
  
Mr. Simmons hustled over to her. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes, I think I'm all right. Thank you, Mr. Simmons. I like you as a teacher. Your my favorite one," she patted him on the back. Obviously, Mr. Simmons was too happy to notice that he was her only teacher. Or, that in the process of patting his back, she had put a sign that said, "Call me, 'funny guy', and then Kick Me."  
  
Helga said some more sarcastic stuff that Mr. Simmons didn't get. He named Helga student of the day. She let out fake tears and spent the rest of class naming off the, "little people," who helped her get on her way to "greatness."  
  
I gathered my stuff together, and then headed to the "oppertunity" room. It was really a place for detentions, but they felt it should have a better name. Lila arrived seconds later.  
  
"Arnold, I need to ask you something. I would have asked you this morning, but Helga walked in on our conversation."  
  
"What is it, Lila?"  
  
"Well, it's like this. I ever so much like you, Arnold. And it would break my heart ever so much if you decided not to go with me to the dance."  
  
What? I almost feinted. Lila? Asking me to the dance? This was byond my wildest dreams!  
  
And yet. . . Something was eating at the back of my head. The note. The note told me about Lila. Told me what she had done. I had read it on the way over. It had warned me. But, still. It was jelously. That was all. Nothing more then jelously.  
  
Then a new thought. A new thought that I never knew about was in my head. A new thought totaly changed all other thoughts I had previously had. Whiped away the chalkboard of pros and cons. It was there. A big one-oh win. No, that wasn't right. One doesn't sound like a big win. It was a big one, more like one-hundred to zero, in favor of. . .  
  
"Arnold?" Lila looked troubled. But I wasn't. I gave her my answer.  
  
"Lila, I-"  
  
  
  
  
  
To be continued. . . 


	6. Chapter 6: Helga

CHAPTER 6  
  
HELGA'S POV  
  
  
  
"-love to go with you to the dance," Arnold said, and then was swept up by Lila. She hugged him and didn't let go.  
  
"Oh Arnold, I'm so happy. Let's tell everyone. Helga should know," said Lila. She is so pathetic.  
  
I don't know how to explain how I felt right then, but it wasn't sadness. I get sad, but this wasn't the time for self-pity. in fact, I think self-pity is ridiculous. Why would you want to feel sorry for yourself when you can do something about it? Anyways, I was feeling anger bubbling inside of me. Not anger at Arnold, or even Lila. Anger at myself. Why couldn't I have told Arnold that I liked him? Or at least asked him to the dance. I got rid of the stupid penpal system because I felt Arnold should know who liked him, but I was too chicken to even tell him. If I could just- no that wouldn't be right. Well, if I thought that was bad, I should have been prepared for what happened next.  
  
Lila, after hugging Arnold for a second, went over and kissed him! She kissed him! How could she do that?! This wasn't little truth-or-dare kiss-on-th-cheek, this was a real kiss. I felt the adrenaline pumping into my veins like a title wave. I don't care if it's not right, I am going to go over and give her a taste of my fist, and her head the taste of the cement brick. I was about to get out of my hiding spot when:  
  
Arnold pushed her away! What he said I will never forget.  
  
"You didn't let me finish, Lila. I said that I would love to go with you to the dance, but there is someone else that I like. I am willing to share with you the information, if you keep it a secret."  
  
"But," I think Lila is going to cry. "I thought, I thought-"  
  
"Had to happen sooner or later," I said to myself. Arnold started to laugh.  
  
"What's that?" He asked.  
  
"What's what?" Lila replied, confused, like normal.  
  
"Nothing," said Arnold. "So. Do you promise not to tell or what?"  
  
This was the moment! The moment of truth!  
  
"Sure, I'll keep your secret ever so special, Arnold." God, this girl has watched too many reruns of Mr. Rogers neighborhood.  
  
"Okay. I like," he took a few deep breaths. "I. . . I. . . I like. . . um. . ."  
  
"Who Arnold? I am ever so interested," Lila looked as though revenge was plastered in big, red letters on her face. It was soooo obvious!!!  
  
"Well," he composed himself again. "I like Helga."  
  
I was so mixed with emotions I can't tell you how much happiness I felt right then. Arnold, like me! He likes me, he really likes me! No more picking petals off of flowers, no more going on Internet sites with tests to see if he likes you on it, and no more hiding my feelings! He. Likes. ME!  
  
"Helga," Lila hissed the word like it was a curse word. "How could you possibly like that. . . that. . . idiotic excuse for a girl?!"  
  
"Goodbye, Lila. I was hoping you would accept my design. But, I guess not." Arnold said.  
  
"But," Lila grabbed his shirt. "That was nice, you ever so know. Kissing. I would like to do it again."  
  
"Uh-huh. Well, lets never, EVER do it again," he said, and stalked off, and left horror-faced Lila and Love-struck me.  
  
  
  
~~~**~~~**~~~  
  
I spent the rest of that day online, chatting with friends, and the normal stuff. I didn't bother to do my homework, it just wasn't the most important thing anymore. I slept well, and got up with no trouble. But, trouble was about to come.  
  
"Hey, Pheebs," I called to Phoebe while walking to school. "What's up?"  
  
"Well," she said. "I fear sirro nimbus clouds. But, the day looks like it will only have a 10% chance of rain!"  
  
I buried my face in my hands.  
  
"Phoebe, Phoebe. Not what-is-over-your-head up. More like what-are- your-ups-and-downs-in-your-life-now-that-you-and-Gerald-are-together what's up."  
  
Her face grew a darker red then I even thought possible. I started to laugh, then stopped myself.  
  
"So," she said, changing the subject. "How is your presentation going? Gerald, Arnold and my proje-"  
  
She was cut short. Lila came up behind me and grabbed my hair back.  
  
"Come to steal Arnold away from me?" She asked. "Well, let me just tell you your NOT getting away with it."  
  
She twisted harder, and the pain was incredible! Okay, you have probably gotten your knee skinned before. Multiply that pain times a thousand. And that was about half of it. I think Lila works out, or something.  
  
All I said to myself is, don't cry, don't scream, don't cry, don't scream. Don't give her anything to work with.  
  
"You think you can scare me by pulling my hair back in a ponytail? You might as well be a hair dresser and doing that, because it ain't hurting."  
  
By sheer luck, Arnold came by right at that moment.  
  
"What are you doing, Lila?!" He screamed. Arnold never screams. Never.  
  
"Oh, just putting her hair back into a ponytail," she said. Wayyyy too non-chalant. Wayyyy too obvious. But the real question is would Arnold get it?  
  
"Is that so?" He asked, rather harshly, too. "Then where is the ponytail holder, hmmm? And why does it look like your about to tear her hair out?"  
  
"Arnold, you don't understand. I kept your secret. I did ever so well! Just give me a chance. Please!"  
  
"I've given you enough chances. I appreciate your keeping my secret, but please let her hair down."  
  
Lila, rather reluctantly, let my hair down, and the pain stopped. We walked the rest of the way to school silently, and then walked in the door. Phoebe left me to go to her locker, and I was all alone. Alone. I undid my combination, and opened my locker to find-  
  
"Geez!" I said under my breath. Flour, the cooking stuff, flew out from my locker, onto me and my books. I saw a note, covered in white flour. It read:  
  
Helga,  
  
I thought you might like nice, green jello, but that was ever so messy. Go ahead, turn me in if you like. Just remember that YOU couldn't handle little-sweet Lila.  
  
-Lila  
  
I laughed. This was the best she could do? A little flower that will come out in the locker room's showers? A little flour that could be brushed off of my clothes was the best she could do? A threat letter that tells me she's afraid of getting dirty?  
  
I was early, so I went to the locker room, and luckily we have swimming so I had my bathing suit, and took a shower to get the flour out of my hair. I brushed off my clothes and walked in A2 (homeroom) just in time for the second bell. I looked at Lila's face, that was twisted in utter disgust.  
  
This was going to be the best day of my life. 


	7. Chaper: 7 Arnold

CHAPTER 7  
  
ARNOLD'S POV  
  
Sorry I haven't been updating much. Life has gotten a little wierd lightly. This is the last chapter, so please review.  
  
I sat through the rest of Mr. Simmon's social studies class with complete boredom until Helga spoke up.  
  
"Um. . . Mr. Simmons?" She asked him. He looked up from the book he was reading.  
  
"Yes," he replied while pouring his "special" drink-of-the-day. "What is your special question you would like to share with the class?"  
  
"Ahem," she cleared her throat and stood up. "I was just thinking it would be ever so special if we, instead of learning from a old book about the colonies, if we instead made our ever so special own colonies. We could make our own special government, or even," she let out a fake gasp, "a jail." All the while she was saying this, she was doing the perfect impression of Lila. Everybody started laughing, but Lila. Mr. Simmons obviously didn't get this because the next two words out of his mouth were:  
  
"How SPECIAL!" He dropped his "special" drink in his lap as he stood up in joy of Helga's idea. He ignored it. "Yes, and we will make special teams, I think. Yes, I will set up a world. We will have people . Five teams. Each special team would be doing their own colony. You will make your own economy, currency, history, location, religion. You can even trade with other's colonies for extra credit. Isn't this special?"  
  
We all let out a grunt of approval. This was a good idea, but he always seems to choose the wrong teams for everyone.  
  
"Oh yes," he continued. "And there will be five kids on each special team. You may chose your own teams."  
  
As soon as those words were out of his mouth, we were already up and choosing. No one wanted to get stuck with Curly or Eugene.  
  
"Hey, partner," Gerald said to me. Helga and Phoebe walked up to us.  
  
"Hey, can we be in your guy's group," Phoebe asked politely.  
  
"Yeah," Helga added. "It's either with you guys, or with Curly and Pink Boy," she jerked her thumb to both of them playing with fake throw-up.  
  
"Oh, just make us feel special now," Gerald joked.  
  
"Yeah, we think of you as better than a technicolor yawn," Helga said.  
  
"A what?" I asked, confused.  
  
"Technicolor yawn," she said it like everyone should know. "Hurling, spewing your guts. Blowing chunks. Pu-"  
  
"Okay, okay," I said. "But, who is going to be our fifth person?"  
  
"Duh!" Helga said. "Sid. Only a cool person could hang with us. I already promised him I would be in his group, because we haven't been hanging out a lot lightly."  
  
"How did you know we were going to do this?" I asked.  
  
"Oh," she said. "Well, it was his idea, too. I felt like thins would be the perfect time to restore our friendship."  
  
I felt a stab of pain. Could I be jealous of Sid? No, she doesn't like him. They were best friends, well as best guy and girl friends you can be without actually being boyfriend and girlfriend, for all of fifth grade, and the beginning of this year. But, they stopped talking to each other when Sid went through his "I don't care what none of you say" stage. It seemed they were getting back on track. As much as I feel happy that they are friends again, I still feel they are a little bit more than friends.  
  
"That's cool," I said. Cool and calm, no hint of jealousy in there. Really, Sid is now pretty cool. He is a lot more mature, and easy-going. And, recently, he has developed a big sense of humor. He has the funniest jokes. He doesn't say them much anymore after Helga stopped being friends with him.  
  
"Really Arnold?" Sid was behind me. "I'm ever so grateful. I'm so happy. Everyone should know we are together on this project."  
  
He and Helga doubled over with laughter so much, I thought they were going to cry. I didn't get what was so funny, probably a inside joke.  
  
"Gerald?" Lila's voice came from behind us. "Do you think I could be in your group? I would ever so like it."  
  
"Lila?" I asked her.  
  
"Yes, Arnold?" She asked me, hopefulness in her lying eyes.  
  
"Do you speak English? How many times do I have to tell you? Go. Away."  
  
"You. . . you. . . idiot!" She stormed off to Curly. I guess idiot was as close to a curse word as Lila got, but it didn't hurt at all.  
  
"Hey!" Helga said. "That's what I said!"  
  
"My oh so special class," Mr. Simmons started class again. "Now that you have your teams, it's time to. . . to. . . well, I was going to choose a climate for your colony."  
  
A grunt from the class. Mr. Simmons has a thing with changing the jobs to the ones we don't want a lot.  
  
"But, I have decided that you can make that choice on your own. Your older now. Isn't it special how much we've been together?"  
  
"Isn't this just be special?"  
  
"Isn't this just be special?"  
  
Helga and Mr. Simmons said it at the same time, but Mr. Simmons didn't hear, or chose not to show he heard, because there was no reaction, except the class laughing.  
  
  
  
~~~**~~~**~~~  
  
For gym, Mr. Simmons insisted we walked their as a class, to symbolize our "togetherness in being special."  
  
On the way, Principal Wartz stopped him in the hall.  
  
"Robert? Please try to go all the way to the bathroom, and don't wait to the last second to go next time, okay?" He pointed to Mr. Simmons pants with "special" juice on them.  
  
Mr. Simmons looked like he was about to say something, but Principal Wartz kept on walking.  
  
When we got to the gym, Mr. Simmons explained what to do.  
  
"Please get into your groups, now. We will be doing a special activity today." We all got into our groups, and he handed out, could it be laptops? "Take these laptops to record your progress, and take special care of them. You will return them after the project is over. During this, and the next two days, you will be making a web site over your project. You will be making a fake colony, where you will be from. You might want to have information on your major buisness. For extra credit, you could make up a special buisness!" He looked so happy, none of us, even Helga, had something bad to say about it.  
  
We got straight to work. Earlier this year, he thought us how to make web sites, so we were ready. It helped that Sid was a computer expert, though.  
  
We ended up being "Tree Rock" where we worshipped trees, because we came from a place that had none. When I asked Sid why he wanted it, he answered :  
  
"Because, trees are the reason we are still able to breath today. They are the reason we have plants. Be one with the tree. Besides, Mr. Simmons will go crazy over it. Come on, trees?"  
  
We still thought he was crazy, but our web site was the coolest of them all by far. He knew codes to put in, so it had a lot more stuff.  
  
~~~**~~~**~~~  
  
When I got home, Grandpa said to pack up and get ready, because we were going to Lansing tomorrow, and we were getting up bright and early.  
  
"That's tomorrow?" I asked him. "The last time you said it was a month away!"  
  
"And that it is," he said. "It's a month since I told you."  
  
I went up the stairs to get packed, but the phone rang.  
  
"I got it," I said. I picked up the receiver. "Hello?"  
  
"Yes, can I please speak to Philip?"  
  
"Grandpa," I yelled, "phone!"  
  
He took the phone from me, and after waiting though a bunch of uh- huhs and grunts, Grandpa turned to me.  
  
"Trip's canceled, Arnold. Looks like the roads going up there are under construction. The only way up there now would take us days."  
  
"Oh, that's too bad," I said, trying to sound sad. Really, I couldn't be happier! The only thing I was looking forward too on that trip was Ernie's Bach CD by the armpit orchestra (All armpit noises) all the way there.  
  
I went up to my room to tell Phoebe I'd be there tomorrow. She told me the oddest thing. She said to come late, at one hour after school started, and go to the stage (it's new. It has lots of seats), and sit in the back row behind her. She also said to tell no one about it. I thought she was crazy, but followed instructions.  
  
  
  
~~~**~~~**~~~  
  
When I got there, I saw Phoebe in the very back. I tapped her on the shoulder, but all she did was say to be quiet, and that she handled my tardiness. I was about to say something else, but Helga came up to talk about her monologue.  
  
"Dear ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Helga's Tragedy House. That's right. Like an opera house, but for tragedies.  
  
"Anyways, this is about this one girl, named Victoria who liked this one guy. The guy, named Victor, also liked Victoria. But, what Victor didn't know, was that Rebecca also liked him. I know, I know. Just like another Dawson's Creek. But there is a twist in this story. You see, Rebecca thought the only way to get to Victor was to be his 'secret' penpal. Then, after writing to Victor, she felt that what she was doing was wrong. She said that Victor should know who was writing him. Let's watch and see what 'special' stuff happens!"  
  
She started her monologue, which had her zoom from one spot to the next, acting like she was talking to someone. The class laughed. Everyone, except me. Even when she illustrated dropping the guillotine on her own head, I didn't laugh. Neither did Phoebe. She and I knew what this was about. It was Helga showing me that she was my letter patron. She was the one who was so scared to tell me it was her, she had to tell me in front of the whole class even without them knowing. I swiveled my head over to Sid, who looked at me, smiled, and gave me a thumbs-up. I knew exactly what I had to do to set this straight.  
  
  
  
~~~**~~~**~~~  
  
The next night, I walked to Mr. Green's meat place with flowers in my hands.  
  
"I thought you wouldn't come. We have stuff to do," Helga said.  
  
I. . . we, left for the dance, and I couldn't be happier. I now had everything I wanted in life. The perfect girl, hair that I could have control over, and I had already had my growth spurt so was almost as tall as the perfect girl in my life.  
  
  
  
  
  
Sequel coming soon! The ending is a little weird, I know. I was planning it on being something else, really leading into the next story, but it didn't work out. Please review! 


End file.
